Insects, Worms

Don’t get me wrong, I am not a screamer as my previous blog post may imply. I’m not even much of a talker. But I DO NOT DO CREEPY, CRAWLY INSECTS.

My Mom relayed this story to me just the other day. Once when I was little she heard me screaming bloody murder – her typically very quiet, content little girl, screaming bloody murder. She ran outside and saw me screaming and jumping up and down. There was a gypsy moth caterpillar *on* *my* *dress* and of course jumping up and down did not disturb it. She wiped it off for me. Something I could have done myself *if* I was okay with touching that ugly caterpillar.

This dislike of insects seems to be hereditary. I couldn’t believe it when my Mom told me this story, because I remember reading a letter my Grandmother wrote to my Aunt (my Dad’s sister) where *the* *exact* *same* scenario had occurred with my Aunt – the caterpillar on the dress, screaming, Grandmother running out to wipe it off

So yes, I have the dislike of insects gene. When I took entomology I really tried to be cool in lab when everyone around me was dissecting and disemboweling insects. It was hard to not run from the room

I did not get the dislike of insects gene from my paternal grandfather however, because he used to remove gypsy moth nests from trees *with* *his* *bare* hands. I couldn’t even stand to watch him do that. It would make my stomach lurch

I do have the curiosity gene as shown by the following photo where I’m checking out a worm after a rainstorm.


Worms are on the borderline of yucky and okay. Yucky if they’re *on* me, but okay if they’re busy doing their job in my garden.

P.S. There’s another story for another day as to why I’m wearing pants in this photo instead of a dress.